Case Number 10254

Future-Kill

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All Rise...

Anyone see Judge David Johnson anywhere? Last we heard, he was in the future somewhere. Hopefully he didn't get...killed.

The Charge

If by "future," you mean the "mid-1980s."

Opening Statement

One part National Lampoon, two parts Bananarama, Future-Kill is
a fine example of '80s trash, though it falls just short of being
compelling '80s trash.

Facts of the Case

In the future, New Wave hairdos have made a glorious comeback and nuclear
arms have leapt back to the forefront of the hippie consciousness. A gang of
anti-nuclear "mutants" (they're not really mutants) have taken to the
streets to protest nuclear weapons, but their demonstrations are usually
accompanied by violence and fire. This is thanks to the instability of Splatter
(Edwin Neal, The Texas Chainsaw
Massacre), one of the more powerful mutants around and the one most prone to
applying physical pain to passersby. Splatter has clad himself in some crazy
metal armor and likes to beat up prostitutes in his spare time. He's a bad
dude.

Meanwhile, back at Animal
House, some frat boys have been sent to the mutant stomping grounds to
kidnap one of the protestors' leaders as a prank. But when the overzealous
college boys run into Splatter, the night's plan quickly goes down the tubes.
Splatter wastes the mutant leader and pins the slaying on the frat boys. Now
lost in a strange world, with psychotics on their tail, the boys must survive
the night and maybe learn a little lesson or two about not judging a book by its
cover.

The Evidence

If that plot description sounds like The
Warriors, that's because it is the plot description of The Warriors.
Essentially, Future-Kill is a half-assed aping of the Walter Hill
classic, just with a lot more gore, bare breasts, and weirdly juxtaposed
sophomoric humor. If it were a little worse and a little hokier, then it might
be worth checking out just for its schlock value. As it is, Future-Kill
is neither good nor bad enough to earn those coveted cheese points.

However, there might be something else at work here to attract viewers. If
Future-Kill fails to impress as a whole, the surreal juxtaposition of
raunchy frat-house comedy with hardcore sci-fi horror is something I haven't
seen before. It really feels like two different movies with two vastly different
tones were scrunched together. The first 30 minutes is comprised of
"zany" college hijinks as two frat houses war against each other,
resulting in one guy ending up tarred and feathered and a couple of others
finding themselves in bed with a topless fat woman. Breasts, cornball sound
work, and actors hamming it up like their lives depended on it—not
what you'd expect after taking a peek at the bad-ass H.R. Giger artwork that
adorns the cover of this DVD. Fast-forward a bit and the film takes a
neck-snapping turn of atmosphere, exemplified by the brutal, bloody murder by
one of the frat boys at the hand of Splatter. Like that, we're into the second
act, full of misogyny, stabbings, and nudity of a less playful nature.

Here, Future-Kill wants to be an action film, but action scenes are
limited to a bunch of jerks pretty much just running around at night. Slowing
the pace down is a prolonged concert sequence full of horrible music, but the
flick manages to regain some juice at the very end, in a neon-blasted chase
scene in a nuclear laboratory, leading to a sweet ending death scene. No
spoilers, but it's a crowd-pleaser, jammed with lingering shots of a melting
face spurting fluids.

As for the presentation, I have no doubt Subversive Cinema did its best, but
the source materials for this film must really blow; the picture is horrible,
with night scenes (the most predominant in the movie) grainy and soft. Two
extras of note: a fun, self-deprecating commentary with Edwin Neal and Ronald
Moore, and a 30-minute interview with Neal. Bios, trailers, and a slick poster
of the cover art finish things off.

Closing Statement

Future-Kill sports a few inspired moments, but sits in that awkward
place of being crappy but not gleefully crappy. Don't let the cover fool you;
this film is one-third harebrained college comedy, and not a very funny one at
that.